


Summer Hair (Forever Young)

by tiigi



Category: Big Time Adolescence (2020)
Genre: Age Difference, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Out of Character, Past Drug Addiction, Pool Boy AU, Sobriety, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:49:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23494849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi
Summary: It’s summer break before senior year when Mo first claps eyes on Zeke the Pool Boy.
Relationships: Monroe "Mo" Harris/Zeke Presanti
Comments: 19
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No idea what happened to the characterisation but I blame [this](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gn2933vMylY) :’)

It’s summer break before senior year when Mo first claps eyes on Zeke the Pool Boy. His parents mentioned that they hired one, probably in an attempt to get Mo to leave his bedroom more often, but they never said when he was supposed to arrive, or that he would be so fucking gorgeous.

Mo doesn’t like to go outside a lot. He has wifi and a laptop and an en suite in his bedroom, so he has pretty much everything he needs. He only goes downstairs for the occasional family meal and to bring food back upstairs, and he hardly ever uses the disgusting swimming pool that his dad hasn’t cleaned in years, so he’s not particularly bothered either way when his parents mention the pool boy idea.

It’s one of these times - Mo has ventured outside of his bedroom and all the way down the stairs to see if he can find some leftover pizza - when he first meets Zeke. Or, more accurately, he first meets the half naked guy that’s currently scooping leaves out of their pool.

He’s never seen the guy before so he could be wrong, but Mo takes a wild guess that this is in fact the man his parents hired, and not just a burglar who likes to clean his targets’ houses. He pauses halfway to the fridge, conflicted, before he makes his mind up. It’s burning hot outside, the man is topless, sweaty, covered in tattoos…

Mo should definitely offer him a drink. 

He slips outside through the sliding door, squinting against the light of the sun, and calls out, “Hey!”

The guy spins around so suddenly that, for a moment, Mo is worried he’ll fall in the pool. Whilst he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to see the dude soaking wet and dripping water, it probably wouldn’t be the best impression to make on his first day. 

“Holy shit,” the guy says, and okay, maybe the whole ‘first impression’ thing is doomed anyway. Still, Mo can’t exactly push him into the pool just to see him climb out again and shake water from his hair like a dog, so he swallows back his yearning sigh and instead offers a friendly smile.

“Sorry!” He grins, holding his hands up in surrender. “My bad. Just wanted to, uh, introduce myself.”

“Your parents totally said I could be here, dude.” The man replies immediately, eyes wide and nervous. “I swear I’m not breaking in.” Mo blinks, confused and a little worried that this is his initial reaction. 

“Yeah,” he says slowly, carefully. “That’s cool. I believe you. I’m Mo.”

The man nods, seemingly relieved, and wipes his palms on his shorts before he holds his hand out for Mo to shake. His fingers are delightfully long and thick and maybe Mo takes a second longer than necessary brushing his thumb against the guy’s skin, just appreciating his soft his hands are.

“I’m Zeke,” he says, sounding far too eager to please. “I mean, uh, Isaac Presanti. Pleased to meet you.”

“Right…” Mo frowns, half convinced his parents are playing a practical joke on him and they just paid this unfairly attractive man to stand here and act strange. Then Zeke looks between Mo’s face and his hand, and Mo realises that he still hadn’t let Zeke go.

“Shit, do you want a drink or anything?” Mo asks, fingers coming to fiddle with the zipper of his hoodie. “It’s hot out here.”

He wishes he were wearing sexier clothes. He hadn’t exactly been planning to seduce anyone today - if he had, he would definitely have worn something a little more revealing - but he can at least try his best with what he’s got. Zeke’s gaze flits down to where he’s sliding the zipper up and down absentmindedly and then darts away again. He’s shamefaced and flushing, although that might be because of the heat. He wipes his forehead with the back of his wrist and gulps.

“Uh, sure, man. Thanks.”

“Cool,” Mo nods and turns on his heel, heading for the kitchen. He pauses when he sees the reflection of Zeke in the window: unmoving and watching him like a hawk. He beckons Zeke forward.

“Are you coming inside?” Mo asks, hiding a smirk at Zeke’s dumbfounded expression. He looks from side to side as though he’s expecting this to be a test, and then nods awkwardly.

“Yeah, okay, thanks.” He says. Mo leaves the door open for him and heads over to the fridge, digging out two cans of lemonade. He cracks one open and takes a sip, licking his lips afterwards and smiling when he notices Zeke watching with his lips parted. Mo has him in the palm of his hand and he didn’t even have to _try_ \- that’s got to be some sort of personal record.

“Here,” he holds the drink out to Zeke and watches the way his throat bobs as he swallows. He’s so ridiculously big all over; he’s at least a whole head taller than Mo, with broad shoulders and long legs and skinny arms. His hands are so big and Mo wants to suck on his fingers.

“So, Zeke.” Mo hops up onto the counter and his shorts ride up so that his bare thigh is showing - not indecent, but a teasing amount of skin. “Is that all we get? Your name?”

“Oh, shit,” Zeke wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. That should not be as endearing as it is. “Sorry. Um, what do you wanna know?”

Mo pauses, considering. He wants to know if Zeke would let Mo suck his cock, but it seems a little early in the relationship to be asking those sorts of questions. Eventually he shrugs and leans back on his hands, head tilted back.

“I don't know,” Mo sighs. “How old are you? What are you doing here? Like, are you in school or something?”

“I’m twenty four,” Zeke tells him, shuffling a little like he’s uncomfortable. Mo almost tells him not to answer if he doesn’t want to, but then Zeke is talking as though he just can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. 

“I’m not in school, or college or any of that shit. I just got out of rehab. Like, this is all part of this rehabilitation program thing to get us jobs and shit, y’know? I’m not– I mean, you don’t have to worry or anything. I’m not gonna, like, rob your family. I’m totally clean now. I don’t even drink. Four months this Friday.”

Mo blinks, taken aback by how candid Zeke’s explanation was. He doesn’t know many people and he certainly hasn’t had deep conversations with anyone but his parents so he has no idea how to react. It seems natural, instinctual somehow, to smile and hold his drink up for Zeke to ‘cheers’ to.

“Congratulations, man,” he says, smile genuine. Zeke has probably heard it a lot and it must be corny as shit by now, but it’s what he wants to say. “Four months? That’s fucking awesome.”

Unexpectedly, Zeke’s eyes light up and his smile brightens his whole face. He seems to relax; the tension in his shoulders vanishes and he clinks his drink against Mo’s.

“Thanks, man,” he says, all bashful and happy. If Mo were to kiss him right now, he’d taste sweet, like sugar and lemon. 

“How about you?” Zeke asks, leaning back against the counter behind him. Mo scratches idly at a spot just above his knee and bites back a smile as Zeke swallows hard and a flush creeps up his chest to his cheeks. 

“Huh?” Mo would close his eyes and bask in the sunlight that streams through the window, but he doesn’t want to deprive himself of looking at Zeke. At the first available opportunity, he wants to trace over Zeke’s tattoos with the tip of his tongue and get an explanation of every single one.

“Like, are you in school or what?” Zeke mutters, looking at the floor as he does, seemingly embarrassed.

“Oh, yeah,” Mo replies, unenthusiastic. School is not a particularly exciting topic and if it’s going to make Zeke wilt like a kicked puppy whenever he talks about it then Mo is just going to avoid the subject for as long as possible. 

And then… 

“I’m just on break from college right now. Visiting family, y’know?” Mo has no idea where the lie comes from, but the way Zeke seems to relax makes it worth it. He’ll almost definitely be discovered sometime soon, whether through a mistake of his own or his family, but hopefully he’ll have gotten to know Zeke a lot better by then.

“Oh, yeah? That’s cool,” Zeke nods enthusiastically. Mo wonders if he’s like this around everybody he meets.

“Sorta,” Mo shrugs, and when he next meets Zeke’s eye he wets his lips with his tongue. The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk. “There’s never anything to do around here, though. I’m looking for some excitement.”

“Oh,” Zeke swallows nervously, wide eyed and breathy. “Okay.” He tugs at the hem of his shorts in what he probably hopes is a surreptitious movement. Mo can’t tell if he’s just turned on or genuinely uncomfortable. He’s about to say more, perhaps suggest they go for a swim later or at least exchange numbers, but he’s interrupted by the front door opening and shutting, and the sound of his parents’ voices.

“Mo?” His father calls, rounding the corner a few seconds later. When he sees Zeke standing topless and barefoot in their kitchen he pauses mid-stride, surprised; he gives Mo a wary glance and Mo tries desperately to avoid eye contact, just in case he looks too guilty.

“Ah, Zeke,” Mo’s mom says, following closely behind and smiling widely at both of them. “I see you’ve met Mo.”

Zeke, tense and uncomfortable again, puts his empty drink down on the counter and takes a few stumbled steps away from Mo, as though to prove his innocence. Mo would laugh, but he doesn’t want to make this any more awkward for Zeke than it clearly already is.

“Yes, yeah. Uh, he just offered me a drink. I wasn’t, like–”

“Give him a break,” Mo rolls his eyes and scoffs for good measure. It was painful standing there watching Zeke try to defend himself with a few stuttered excuses - Mo had no other choice but to jump to his rescue. Obviously. 

“Oh, honey, don’t worry.” Sherri waves away Zeke’s stammering apology. Reuben still hasn’t said anything; he’s watching Mo with narrowed eyes and his arms crossed over his chest. 

“You’ve worked hard today, you deserve a drink. Don’t let Mo scare you off, he can just be–” She’s cut off by Reuben, who jumps at the opportunity to finish the sentence.

“Overly friendly,” Reuben sneaks closer and pats Mo on the back, a little too hard to be casual. Mo recognises it as a warning, and has to bite back a laugh. 

“You know me,” Mo rolls his shoulders back and stretches after he hops off the counter. His t-shirt rides up and he waits a moment before tugging it down again. When he glances round, Zeke startles and drags his eyes away from the sliver of bare skin Mo had on display. “Always makin’ friends.”

Sherri sighs, long suffering, and Zeke looks between all three of them in utter confusion. 

“Well, I should…” He doesn’t even bother finishing the thought before he’s slipping out the door and into the garden again, padding across the grass quickly and reclaiming his ridiculous fishing pole. All three of them stand and watch him for a moment - although for different reasons, Mo hopes - until he turns around and waves, smile strained. 

Mo brushes past his parents in a hurry to get away. 

“Mo!” Reuben calls after him. Mo is so not in the mood for a lecture right now so he doesn’t respond, just takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches his room and can safely slam the door shut. 

His parents may be an obstacle, but there’s no way Mo isn’t going to go for Zeke with everything he’s got. 

***

The next time Mo sees Zeke, he’s coming back from the library. He uses the back gate and cuts through the lawn, where Zeke is standing, hovering over the pool again. He freezes when he sees Mo approaching and then, slowly, lifts a hand to wave hello. Mo returns it happily - anything to distract Zeke from the tatty rucksack that’s hanging off his shoulder, full of books for his summer assignments. 

“Hey!” Mo calls. Zeke looks almost scared of him and that shouldn’t be as satisfying as it is.

“Mo,” Zeke greets him. He’s fully clothed this time, much to Mo’s dismay, but the sleeves of his t-shirt stretch around his biceps. Mo swears his mouth is watering. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Mo falls down with a huff into one of the deck chairs that lines the pool. Zeke checks the house for any sign of Mo’s parents before he comes closer. “Like I said, it’s kind of boring around here. How about you?”

“Well,” he gestures to the pool. It has been looking a lot better lately, ever since Zeke started working on it. “I’m almost finished with this, and then I’ll start on the rest of the garden. You can have, like, pool parties and shit. Invite your friends. Invite some girls round or something.”

Mo blinks, surprised by how blunt Zeke is being. Even Zeke seems startled by his own words, because the next thing Mo knows, Zeke is flushing pink and shuffling uncomfortably.

“Sorry if that was, like, weird or–”

“I don’t have any friends.” Mo doesn’t want to hear Zeke’s unnecessary apologies. The guy says sorry like he’s apologising for his own existence and Mo isn’t going to stand there and let him do it. “I don’t have any friends, and I’m not into girls.”

If Zeke was blushing before, it’s nothing on what’s going on now. He fans himself as though to imply it’s the heat responsible for his flushed skin rather than Mo’s declaration. When he replies, he completely slips over the whole ‘girls’ part of Mo’s answer.

“You mean, you don’t have any friends here? You must have some in college.”

“Nope,” It’s not so far from the truth. Mo doesn’t have any friends in college because he doesn’t technically go to college, and he doesn’t have any friends in high school because nobody even notices he exists. He’s not lying so much as bending the truth - like that makes it any better.

But then Zeke is kicking the ground and giving Mo a small, hopeful smile and it’s the cutest fucking thing Mo has ever seen.

“Yeah, I feel you. I don’t really have many friends either, since the whole ‘getting sober’ thing stuck. I guess you realise who your real homies are.” Zeke tells him, adorably earnest. Mo can’t help but smile back; Zeke’s happiness is so infectious that he’s suddenly filled with restless energy, with the desire to do something other than just flirt in vain. 

“To no friends,” Mo says, even though they don’t have anything to toast. “And swimming pools.”

Zeke holds up an imaginary glass - he might be the only person to ever go along with Mo’s silly games - and pretends to drink.

“It looks good, though.”

“What?” Zeke asks, and then lets out a sigh that could be disappointed or relieved when he realises Mo is talking about the pool. “Oh! Yeah, thanks. It’ll be done soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Mo says, lighthearted so that Zeke will know he’s only joking. “Why not just give it a trial run now?”

“What? _Oh,_ Jesus, okay.” Zeke’s reaction to Mo stripping is hilarious and flattering all at once. He’s barely pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it away before Zeke is covering his eyes melodramatically and turning his back on Mo, as though to preserve his decency or something equally stupid. If that’s how he reacts when Mo takes his shirt off, he might have an aneurysm when Mo steps out of his shorts. 

“C’mon!” Mo shouts, racing past Zeke and diving elegantly into the pool. He knows he has good form because he’s been swimming for years, and hopefully, if Zeke actually is into him, seeing Mo’s body arched and poised will spur him into action.

Mo breaks the surface again and shakes his hair out of his face, rubbing his eyes. Zeke is watching him dumbly, frozen in place. He should consider himself lucky that Mo’s underwear didn’t come off when he hit the water. Mo treads water for a few moments as he gets used to the temperature, the chill against his skin. Then, when he can float comfortably without his teeth chattering, he focuses his attention back on Zeke.

“You should get in!” He calls, even though Zeke is right there and he doesn’t need to be so brazen about it. “It’s lovely.”

That’s not entirely true, because a cold swimming pool is a shock to the system even on the hottest days, but it will be lovely if Zeke joins him so he’s technically not lying. ‘Technically’ is a word Mo has been clinging to lately. Maybe he should be worried.

“Oh, fuck, um…” Watching Zeke stammer out an answer is simultaneously funny and adorable. Mo drifts over to the edge of the pool and rests his chin on his arms, looking up at Zeke, the picture of innocence. “I really shouldn’t swim while I’m supposed to be working.”

So, Mo decides, he definitely wants to. That’s reassuring at least. The only trouble will be removing the stick from his ass that apparently means Zeke’s not down to have any fun.

“Oh, c’mon,” Mo urges, wrapping a wet hand around Zeke’s ankle and sliding it up to his calf as casually as he can manage. Zeke seems to choke on air and he looks away as though he’s been caught creeping on someone. This might end up being harder than Mo first thought.

“Mo…” Zeke tries again, but his resolve is weakening and they both know it. 

“It’s really nice. You can tell my parents I bullied you into it– I promise they’d believe you. I can be really… persuasive.” Mo really is pulling out all the stops for the random pool boy his parents hired, and he has no idea why. Is it just because he’s attractive? That can’t be it. There’s something about him that Mo is drawn to, some electric presence that Mo can’t get enough of. He does want to fuck him, though, that’s a given.

“Shit,” Zeke hisses under his breath, and then he’s stripping himself of his shorts and he’s dangling his legs over the edge of the pool. Mo takes the opportunity to admire the tattoos visible on his legs and over his hips, to run his fingers back and forth over Zeke’s wrist without him objecting.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” Zeke says, and Mo expects he’s talking about more than just the swimming pool. 

“Maybe,” Mo admits. He wants to feel close to Zeke for whatever reason, wants to feel connected, so he flips onto his back and hooks an arm around Zeke’s calf under the water. He flinches in surprise when Zeke’s fingers find his hair and begin to card through it, wet and silky as it is underwater. Mo sighs, content.

He keeps his eyes closed, but he grins when Zeke’s fingers travel up over his forehead and down the slope of his nose, towards his mouth. Zeke’s fingertips brush back and forth over his bottom lip and he tastes like chlorine, with a hint of salt and skin underneath. Mo parts his lips just slightly and licks at Zeke’s fingers to see how he will react.

Zeke inhales sharply but doesn’t pull away, and Mo relaxes. It would be nice if Zeke actually got in the water with him but this is sweet and soft and if it’s the best Mo can get, he’ll take it. 

They can only have stayed in that position for a few minutes - although with Mo drifting on his back time seems to melt away into an obscurity - when they’re being interrupted. Mo hears the gate swing open first, and then footsteps heading in their direction, and by the time he realises his father is home it’s already too late. 

“Zeke?” Reuben says first. Mo catches Zeke’s eye for a fraction of a second as they exchange matching expressions of doom, and then they jerk away from each other in a hurry. Mo dips under the water and, by the time he resurfaces a few feet away, Zeke is already standing up with his hands clasped in front of him and his head hung. He looks so contrite that Mo would laugh in any other situation. As it is, he knows how frightening Reuben’s wrath can be. Mo pulls himself out of the pool cautiously.

“Mo, go upstairs and get dressed.” Reuben’s voice is thick with finality. He leaves no room for argument, and Mo knows he would only make himself seem like even more of a little kid if he tried. He doesn’t want that to be Zeke’s lasting impression of him, so he nods at his father and shoots Zeke an apologetic look. It goes unnoticed; Zeke is too busy glaring at his feet.

It feels like he’s doing a walk of shame as he stoops to pick up his abandoned clothes and backpack from the floor. He leaves wet footprints on the paved ground as he walks. His father doesn’t speak to him as they pass.

He should go straight to the bathroom, have a shower and let that be the end of it. Mo can still be friends with Zeke, can still flirt with him; just because Reuben treats him like a child doesn’t mean he is one and it doesn’t mean he can’t go after what he wants. He should just take the loss this time, Hide his embarrassment for a few days and then try again.

He doesn’t. He’s too curious to hear what his father has to say, too interested in what Zeke thinks of him, to just leave it alone. He shuts the sliding door, ducks behind the countertop and strains to listen through the open window. He’s leaving a wet puddle on the floor where he’s crouching but he’ll worry about that later. Right now, he only cares about—

“What do you think you’re doing with my son?”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what– I mean, I just like hanging out with him and I get that it’s completely unprofessional. I’ll– I’ll wait until my work is finished here before anything like… _that_ happens again. I promise.” Zeke sounds so earnest that Mo’s heart aches. He’d known Zeke was into him of course, but having it laid out in front of him like that so simply - _I just like hanging out with him -_ makes Mo’s heart race with something he hasn’t felt in a long time. For something that started out as the intention to seduce, it’s becoming more and more like a schoolboy crush the longer Mo lets it go on. He’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way around.

“No,” Reuben replies, voice shaking with barely concealed anger. Mo winces in commiseration. “No, I don’t want you doing anything with my son. Not now, not later, not after you’ve finished this project– you understand? I don’t want you touching my _underage son.”_

_Oh fuck._

“What?” It sounds like the words have been startled out of him. Mo really should have seen this coming at some point. 

“What– do you need me to say it again?”

 _“No!_ I just… I don’t understand. Mo said he was in college?” He sounds so genuinely baffled and Mo feels like a complete fucking asshole. It’s his fault Zeke is even in trouble right now, possibly at risk of losing his job. Mo acts like he’s mature and experienced but he’s really just going around causing problems for everybody. Shit. 

Reuben is silent for what feels like an eternity. He knows what Mo is like, and when he speaks again he sounds calmer, more sympathetic.

“Zeke,” he says, tone carefully controlled. “Mo is seventeen, and I would appreciate it if you stayed away for him until that changes. If you can’t do that, I don’t think you can continue to work here. Do you understand?”

Mo can’t hear what Zeke says next, his words are just a faint muffled noise, but he must agree to it because the next thing Mo knows, Reuben is heading towards the kitchen. Mo flails on the slippery floor and lands on his back, staring up at his father innocently like he hasn’t just been eavesdropping on his conversation. 

“Um,” he says. “Hi?”

“I know you heard all that,” Reuben sighs. “So I’m only going to say this once. That man has dealt with enough trouble of his own to last a lifetime. I don’t want you getting involved in it, _or_ causing more. Alright?”

Mo loves his father. He can be overbearing and controlling sometimes, but he always wants the best for Mo, does everything he does to try and protect him.

That’s why Mo nods and smiles and crosses his fingers behind his back.

“Got it,” he says, like a liar.


	2. Chapter 2

At first, Mo doesn’t realise that Zeke is avoiding him. He figures that Zeke will need a few days to get over the little incident and then things will go back to normal - he’s not expecting Zeke to  _ hide  _ from him.

But maybe that’s his own fault. Maybe he took things a little too far…

Or maybe Mo can just blame his dad. That whole speech was totally uncalled for. 

He’s hoping the barbecue will change things. Reuben has invited the whole family along and, much to his disappointment and Mo’s satisfaction, Sherri has invited Zeke. He’s finished his work on the pool and now he only comes by once a week to tidy up the lawn and clear out the leaves, so Mo has barely seen him since the whole embarrassing shovel talk happened. Tonight, though, an opportunity has presented itself and Mo will be damned if he misses out on it.

Tonight he’s going to talk to Zeke, if it’s the last thing he does. 

Kate’s arrival makes that a little easier, thankfully. She’s brought her fiancé with her and Mo likes him, he’s a great guy, but he’s not exactly the person Mo wants to spend the evening with. His parents are a different story - they greet him with open arms, usher him into the back garden and press a drink into his hands almost immediately. Mo has never brought a boy home - and hopefully he never will - but if he ever does, he doubts his parents will greet them like that. It would hurt if he didn’t understand their perspective. Mo’s taste in men tends to be questionable at best.

Except Zeke. Zeke is different. He’s sweet, he’s dorky, he’s genuinely trying to be a better person.

And he’s  _ avoiding Mo.  _ If he could just get Zeke alone for a few moments maybe he could clear the air, apologise for the awkwardness, maybe get Zeke to grope him a little.

It doesn’t seem like there will be much opportunity for that though. Mo can feel his father’s eyes on him every time he so much as stands up. Zeke is engaged in what looks like deep conversation with Kate and Mo is decidedly not looking, not paying attention, to hide the fact that he’s simmering with jealousy. How come she gets to talk to Zeke like that but Mo can’t? Does he not  _ want  _ to talk to Mo? That would throw a wrench in Mo’s plans for sure.

But then Zeke glances over and their eyes meet and just for a second, before Zeke looks away, Mo sees a fleeting sadness in his expression. He wants to talk to Mo. He does. He just… can’t. At least, not with Reuben hovering over both of them like a fucking helicopter parent. 

Mo really needs to come up with a plan.

***

In the end, the perfect opportunity presents itself without Mo having to do anything. He watches with increasing resentment as Kate and Zeke get more and more chatty when his parents appear beside them. They don’t say it, of course, but the message is clear: it’s time for Zeke to fuck off.

He clears his throat uncomfortably and excuses himself to get another drink of water. Mo watches him head inside and, with one last look over at Reuben to make sure this isn’t some sort of trap he’s walking into, follows him. 

He doesn’t even hear Mo coming. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Zeke startles. He’s wearing socks with no shoes and he slips on the kitchen floor, water sloshing over the side of the glass he carries. Having been regulated the whole night by his father, Mo can’t even blame his sudden confidence on the alcohol. He’s not drunk and he’s not thinking clearly but he  _ does  _ know what he wants, and if Zeke can’t respect that then maybe Mo shouldn’t be hanging out with him anyway.

“You’ve been drinking,” Zeke replies with a frown. He places his glass down on the counter like he knows he’s going to need both hands free.

“Nope,” Mo holds up his hands as if to say,  _ hey look, no drink. _

“Then what are you doing, Mo?” Zeke sighs, long suffering and resigned. It stings a little, but Mo can’t say he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m talking to you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you and you’ve been avoiding me. Why?”

“Why do you think?” Mo has never seen Zeke angry - partly because he’s only properly seen Zeke twice - but it’s still jarring. Both of them wince, and Mo looks over his shoulder to see if anyone from the party has heard the commotion and come to investigate. Thankfully, they’re still alone.

“I’m sorry,” Zeke takes a big, calming breath. His fists clench and unclench. “It’s not fair of me to shout. I’m taking my anger out on you and I shouldn’t.”

It seems like a rehearsed speech and while Mo understands that it’s a good thing Zeke can control himself with it, he also wants Zeke to just be real with him. 

“So… are you gonna tell me what your problem is?” Mo hates how whiny he sounds.

“You  _ lied  _ to me, Mo,” Zeke points out. “You told me you were in college. I thought you were older.”

Mo does feel guilty. He lied to Zeke so that he stood a chance but he still lied, and he has to take responsibility for that. It seems a little excessive to avoid him completely but if Mo was in Zeke’s position, would he really have done anything differently? He doesn’t know. 

“I’m sorry,” Mo says, hoping he sounds as earnest as he feels. “I didn’t mean to, like, trick you. I wasn’t trying to get you into trouble. I just… wanted to get to know you, and I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me if you knew I was still in high school.”

“I  _ wouldn’t,  _ Mo, Jesus!” Mo blinks, surprised and hurt. He hadn’t been expecting to be rejected so brutally - it’s never happened before - and Mo has no idea how to react. Is he supposed to be nice about it? To get angry? To lash out? Maybe Zeke would prefer it if he didn’t say anything and just left.

“No– no, wait, Mo. Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, okay?” Zeke surprises Mo by getting closer, brushing his fingers over Mo’s cheekbones and cupping his cheek. “I’m sorry. You’re amazing, Mo. Really, you’re so funny and– and cool, and beautiful. But you’re seventeen, and you know what Reuben said, right? If we do anything, he’ll fire me.”

“He’s just being a dick. He doesn’t need to be overprotective or anything. I know what I want, Zeke, I’m not a kid.”

“I know,” Zeke sighs. His eyes slip shut and a little crease forms between his eyebrows when he frowns. Mo reaches up and smooths it over with the pad of his thumb, and Zeke laughs. 

“What are you doing to me, huh?” He asks, breathless, on an exhale. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”

Mo rests his hand on Zeke’s bicep for a second and then slides it up, over the slope of his shoulder and the curve of his neck. He plays with the short hairs at the nape of Zeke’s neck and brushes his lips against Zeke’s jaw.

“Well,” he says, and throws caution to the wind. “Not if we don’t get caught.”

Zeke’s eyes flutter open. He’s not surprised, he’s resigned– like he knows Mo has already convinced him. “Jesus, Mo.” He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “You’re a fucking nightmare.”

“Suck it up,” Mo says with a satisfied smile, slipping his hand into Zeke’s and tugging him towards the stairs.

“They’ll notice we’re gone.” Zeke’s half hearted protests make Mo grin. “Your dad…”

“Is busy talking to Kate,” Mo finishes, even though he’s not sure this is strictly true. He’s such an asshole for doing this, and he’s really relying on the assumption that he can convince his parents not to fire Zeke if they do get caught. He just… really wants to get the guy off.

“Do you do this with all the guys your parents hire?” Zeke says, pupils blown. They’ve stumbled up the stairs together by now, and Mo pushes Zeke against his door as soon as they’ve closed it behind them. Zeke’s breaths are coming in fast and heavy and his dick is already hard, tenting his jeans. 

“Oh, sure,” Mo says. “I sucked off the butler last week. I’m surprised you didn’t hear us. He’s into some pretty kinky shit– hey!” Mo shrieks, high pitched and undignified, when Zeke pokes the sensitive spot under his ribs. A short, sharp burst of laughter has Zeke slapping a hand over Mo’s mouth and gesturing to his bedroom window. Just outside, his family are talking and laughing like nothing else is happening. If anything, that just gets Mo even more flustered. 

“You’re so hot,” Mo mumbles against Zeke’s palm. Zeke must hear it anyway because he flushes pink and laughs, awkwardly pleased.

“I bet you say that to all the pool boys.”

“Sure thing.” Mo rolls his eyes, and promptly drops to his knees.

“Fuck,” Zeke says suddenly, eyes wide and shocked. He runs his fingers through Mo’s hair and balls the other one into a fist to hide the fact that it’s trembling. Mo’s hands are steady when he pops the button on Zeke’s jeans. 

“Is this okay?” Mo asks, fingers hovering just centimetres away from Zeke’s cock. He’s hard, but that doesn’t mean anything, and for all his adolescent pushiness, he doesn’t actually want to do this if Zeke doesn’t.

But Zeke just nods and closes his eyes and says, “Fuck yeah.”

That’s all the encouragement Mo needs. He curls his fist around Zeke’s cock and strokes him slowly through his underwear, struggling to get his jeans down over his ass. When he finally has Zeke’s dick in front of him, he licks the flat of his tongue over the head and sucks softly.

“Fuck, Mo,” Zeke breathes, head falling back against the wall. The hand he has in Mo’s hair clenches every now and then, and the sharp tug has tears gathering in Mo’s eyes. At one point he takes Zeke too far and gags, and even though Mo has to pull off, Zeke stifles a moan like that was the hottest thing ever. He’s shaking and his breathing is getting erratic. Every time the tip of his dick hits the back of Mo’s throat he lets out this little gut punched groan that has Mo grinding against his own hand for friction.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Mo, it should be criminal,” Zeke gasps, biting into his own fist. Mo blushes despite himself, feels the heat in his face and wonders how Zeke has the power to embarrass him with his cock in Mo’s mouth. It’s ridiculous.

“I’m gonna come,” Zeke pants. Mo doesn’t pull off, doesn’t stop. He just strokes Zeke through his orgasm and sits back on his heels when it’s over, desperately jerking himself off inside his jeans. The angle is awkward and it probably won’t help much in convincing Zeke he’s not just a horny teenager, but he can’t stop himself. Besides, Zeke seems too exhausted from his orgasm to pay Mo much attention.

Mo comes in his jeans, kneeling on the floor in front of Zeke, panting and desperate. He takes a moment to catch his breath and when he comes back to reality he realises that Zeke has been petting his hair for the past few minutes, silently encouraging him. His stomach flutters.

“Do you think they’ve noticed us missing?” Zeke asks quietly. Mo gets to his feet with a slight wince. 

“We haven’t been gone for that long,” he says, which isn’t an answer. Zeke snorts.

“How fucked am I on a scale from one to ten?” He smooths the wrinkles out of Mo’s shirt, which Mo finds fucking adorable. Usually after he’s had sex with someone, Mo wants to get out of there as soon as possible. With Zeke, he doesn’t feel that way at all.

“Like… not at all?” Mo doesn’t sound very convincing, even to his own ears. 

“Fantastic,” Zeke sighs.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Mo watches Zeke carefully. This feels awkward. He’s never apologised to anybody for sucking them off before. “I’ll tell him it was my idea if he asks. He knows what I’m like. My mom wouldn’t let him fire you anyway. Probably…”

Zeke’s smile brightens his eyes. He’s beautiful, in a dumb way that Mo doesn’t properly understand. 

“To be honest, Mo,” he says, taking Mo’s hand again. “I’d rather have you than the job.”

Mo smiles tentatively. “Even though I’m a fucking nightmare.”

Zeke squeezes his hand. “Especially because you’re a fucking nightmare,” he says.

***

Reuben glares at them as they reappear together after fifteen minutes, hair mussed, lips red and clothes disheveled. Mo greets him with a beaming smile and an unashamed thumbs up.

He’ll live up to Zeke’s expectations if it’s the last thing he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to that one anon on tumblr for reminding me about this fic! Hope you enjoy! <3


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